Trouble in Moscow
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: After hearing from the other nations behind the iron curtain that Russia's been acting differently, Prussia decides to visit his old friend and prove once and for all that they're lying. The only problem is Gilbert's lack of knowledge in what's been happening the in USSR since Stalin came to power.


_Moscow, 1949  
_  
"Gilbert! It is so good to see you! Your face is so red from the wind, come in! I have some borscht on the stove, but there's plenty of vodka to warm you while we wait." Ivan couldn't wipe the grin off his face or his arm from around the Prussian's shoulders. It had been too long that they'd last seen each other under peaceful circumstances. "Please, make yourself comfy! Do you need a blanket? It's been a long time since our winter war, hasn't it?"

For his part, Gilbert was brimming with joy as well. It had been too long that someone had actually been glad to see him. He hadn't felt like his presence was valued in such a long time. Not even his own damn brother, but he wouldn't think about that. Not tonight, not in the company of such a good friend. "Hey, I didn't fall into a river! You don't have to fuss over me this much! My hearts keeping me warm enough right now, but how can I turn down such good vodka? I'm not a complete bastard."

He sat down on the couch, nuzzling himself into the cushions for maximum warmth and comfort. For all his protesting, Prussia really was feeling a chill down to his bones. He'd forgotten how harsh Russian winters could be, even on so-called good days. He gratefully took the glass offered to him by his host and had a sip. He had a couple more. "God, you've got this shit down to a science."

Russia sat down besides his friend. Pride filled him at the compliment. "Da, we do have the best. It's a shame others try to compete, don't you think?" He took off his coat, growing too warm from the fire and soup being cooked in the next room. "How's the adjustment been? No one treats you like a war criminal?"

"All of them except Hungary have been doing their best to avoid me. You and Eliza are the only two who understand what Roderich and I were trying to do in our small way." He shrugged. "I expected it. If any of them had been particularly warm towards me, that would've been more suspicious. Feliks is starting to talk to me again, but only in letters or telegrams to insult my entire existence. It's incredibly weird, but I'm not going to harp on the guy. He's had it rough."

Ivan nodded along. At the mention of Feliks, he grew tense. His grip on his coat sleeves grew tight, bunching the fabric up in his fist. "Poland. He hasn't...mentioned anything about me? No weird stories from him or Lithuania?"

"From what I've heard from Eliza, they've been saying you're acting really off. They keep calling you paranoid and possessive and a whole slew of horrible things." He paused a beat. "Shit, that was in private. Well, whatever. I don't get the point of it. You seem perfectly fine to me, but those two are always gossiping. It's really annoying. They beat us up a few times in the Middle Ages and still act like hot shit. Like who just got put back on a map? It's a disgrace."

Ivan laughed at that. Some of the tension was relieved from his body. He released his grip on his sleeves. "He really thinks he doesn't need me - or all of us! - when he couldn't be trusted to run his own country for such a long time. He's such a strange guy. He should be grateful for all the assistance he can get."

"He's had a rough decade. Honestly, I talk big but I do feel bad for the guys. Both of them. They've had it rough the last few years." Gilbert finished down the rest of his drink.

"Da, and they'll have a couple rough more." Ivan sung under his breath, chuckling darkly to himself.

Gilbert snapped his head to look at his host. The Russian sensed his unease and smiled. "I said I hope they _won't_ have any more rough years. You've been on high-alert for so long you don't know how to relax. Your glass is empty, let me fill it."

While not entirely convinced, Prussia wasn't going to disagree. The easiest explanation was that he'd misheard. Why start a pointless fight when he'd just arrived? He smiled sheepishly and held out his glass while it was refilled. "You're right. Relaxing. I need to try that again. You've always been a laid-back guy, maybe you can teach me how."

A grin filled with genuine warmth spread across Ivan's face. His body felt like it was vibrating. "You really mean that? I would love to! I rarely get any visitors and to make it so our friendship blooms like a sunflower in May would be so wonderful!" Suddenly, his whole mood shifted. His back stiffened and he hunched down. He was deflated and seemed to be overtaken by something darker. "Ah, but Stalin would grow suspicious if I had such a close male companion. And he gives me so much work, I could be a unreliable partner at best." He stumbled on his words, realizing his choice of words. "Not that I'm looking for us to be partners! That would be-be wrong! Da, wrong! So I'm...I'm a man with many things to do."

The room grew incredibly tense afterwards. Ivan's face was bright-red, his embarrassment growing as he replayed what just happened in his head. He was forcing himself to stare intently at the painting of a sunflower on the wall and not at his companion besides him. For his part, Gilbert was absolutely confused. He drank more and tried to figure out why Ivan was so upset about forming a partnership with him. Were you not allowed to run a company? Or, if you do, it has to be with members of the opposite sex? This communism thing and that Stalin guy were a lot stricter than he thought.

Gilbert leaned over and put his hand on Ivan's shoulder. Mustering up all his charisma, he gave his most dazzling smirk. "Hey, I've got no problem with us forming a partnership in secret if you're worried about what your boss thinks. I've had plenty like that before and they worked out fine."

Ivan's face turned even redder. The Russian jumped up and dashed into the kitchen. "ThankyouGilbert!" He shouted over his shoulder, his voice suddenly up an octave. He pretended to fuss around with the borscht while calming himself down.

Gilbert poured some more vodka and shook his head. "Some people are allergic to success," he muttered. He took a sip, enjoying the buzz that was coming on. He grinned wide at Russia when he came back into the living room. Thinking about all that had happened, he began to laugh. "I don't know why Poland and everyone else are so afraid of you. Everyone's been saying you've had some sort of personality shift since 1917, but you look like the same old Ivan to me."

This killed any butterflies still lingering in Russia's stomach. He sat down and turned his full attention to his guest. "I had no idea they said those kind of things. Why would they be scared of me if we're all friends?"

Gilbert threw more of his drink back. "It's the most ridiculous bits of gossip. Toris is saying you're out here rounding up his citizens and killing them in Siberia. Feliks and your sister with the big tits - Katya, is that her name? - too! Can you believe it? Like, I look at them when they say that and it makes me wanna laugh. It's you! You've always just wanted friends, how do you make any by killing their people? Fucking ridiculous. Isn't it?" He had been laughing the whole time. There was radio silence next to him. Gilbert shut up. His voice was hushed. "Ivan, please say this is ridiculous."

Russia had his eyes closed. He didn't want to look at his friend for fear of seeing what would be in his eyes. "The revolution did put me in a bad place. A lot of violence and bloodshed, that never sits right with you. It changes some parts of who you thought you were. I've got issues now, new issues. I have to be worried about everyone who wants to hurt me. Sometimes, the people who are supposed to love me are the one's who hurt me so I hurt them back. I never stop loving them though."

Prussia was dead silent. He ran his hands through his hair and groaned. Personally, he was thrilled with his good luck. One dictator to another. That's what his fate had been. That's why France and Britain were so excited to see what life under Russian eyes would do to him. This wasn't supposed to be something he looked forward to, it was a punishment all along. "You need help, Ivan. You need help as a person and you need help as a nation."

"If there's villains all around you what do you do? You create a system that prevents others from cropping up and crush the ones already here! That's all I'm doing and there's nothing wrong with it. I understand that you're sensitive right now, but you'll figure it out soon enough and I was hoping you would help me." Russia smiled. "You've always understood matters of brute strength and of discipline. I need that kind of leadership and insight."

"Nein! I don't want to be a pawn anymore! I'm tired of being some lowlife's bully! I want out, out of this damned system!" Gilbert jumped up. "How do you expect me to sympathize with hurting innocent people after everything I've seen? Ivan, I was sent to every one of those damned camps multiple times! I've seen so much death and been part of it, I don't want to be part of anymore!"

Slowly and with great caution, Russia rose. He moved gently towards the distressed nation, like he would a cornered animal. "Gilbert, I would never send you to see what was happening. To be frank, you're never going to be privileged enough. All we need is a mind. Teach our police effective means, help our military straighten out, and get more discipline from everyone. I thought this is what you were known for, no?" He smiled and held both of Prussia's shoulders in his arms. "I would never ask of you to do anything so upsetting as that. Come, sit down and have another drink. Good, you're calmer now, yes?"

Prussia, now wrapped comfortably on the couch an downing another glass of vodka, weakly nodded. Russia smiled and sat across from him on the table. He took a sip of vodka from the bottle before continuing. "This wouldn't be for nothing. You'd be paid well, get many great things the others will be without. You'll be trusted and keyed in on important things. Isn't that what you've missed? Having bosses and officials remember that you matter? There's no more little brother to walk all over you, you'll be treated like my equal because you _are _my equal."

"And if I say no?" Prussia chuckled. "Who am I kidding, I know how this works. I can't, you've said too much, I know too much. I have no choice. I haven't had a choice in so fucking long." The anger was coming back, but instead of making him want to fight, it made him tired. What could he do? He was trapped. Even if he spoke out, no one would listen.

His host rose and patted him on the shoulders. "You'll get used to this. And when it's winter and you're warm while all the other's are trying to figure out how to get heating in their flats, you'll thank me."

Ivan rose and returned to the kitchen to begin pouring the borscht in their bowls. He brought their dinner back to the couch where they'd be warmest. For a long time, they ate in silence, the only sound passing between them was the occasional slurp. "Have I just sold my soul?" Gilbert's voice was faint and lacking all of his usual energy.

Without any joy, Ivan smiled. "We haven't had souls in a long time."


End file.
